Never Let This Go
by Val-Creative
Summary: You will understand what love truly means, his mother told him. I already do, Wolfgang tells himself with unmistakable confidence. /Post-Series. Rajalagang. Oneshot.


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" _When you are stronger and far away from this place_ …" his mother whispers against his earlobe, cradling a sniffling Wolfgang in her lap and rocking them together, "… _you will understand what love truly means_."

He hates going back to about that memory sometimes, when the nights are long and suffocating, roaring in his eardrums.

Wolfgang hates crying, his eyes puffy and reddened and sore, but he hates remembering his mother's tiny, forlorn smile much more. She constantly had been wounded by men in her life, with bruises on her soul and face. Of course he knew what it was to _love_ someone… his mother was the only person Wolfgang loved, besides Felix who is still a brother and a confidante to him.

Up until Kala emerged suddenly into his life, illuminated under smoky, festive candle-lights.

It felt like a dream back then. She was bright, embroidered fabrics and humidity and lithe words edged with sternness. She spoke to him with every ounce of conviction Kala herself believed mattered, warmth and kindness cascading from her voice. Wolfgang needed to know _more_ about her, purposely manifesting when it was less than appropriate for them.

 _Romance?_

Not his thing. Maybe it is not supposed to be.

(Sometimes he wonders.)

Wolfgang knows how to fuck and how to make a woman scream with pleasure, and occasionally a man, and that seems good enough. There's no relationships worth being vulnerable to. But… _Kala_ , her stubbornness and patience and wide, benevolent smile crumples him to the weight of his emotions.

He loves her, Wolfgang realizes once more, solemnly straightening up for his girlfriend as Kala, glimmering and sequin-pink, fusses over his tuxedo's lapels, reminding him he should have ironed out his suit before they leave for the limousine.

Lito insists on them coming to visit Mexico, greeting everybody in the airport with laughter and hugs, kissing their cheeks.

It's one of his latest movie premieres, brimming with celebrities and paparazzi toting their gear and hot, flashing cameras. Wolfgang feels more and more uncomfortable surrounded by the tall, grandiose ceilings and silver chandeliers and walls the same color to Kala's floor-length, evening dress.

A hand falls onto the center of Wolfgang's back, like it is familiar with the gesture, rubbing up and down — and if it had been anyone _other_ than Rajan, seeing as Kala already disappeared for a photo with Lito and Hernando in the entranceway, they would have reeled on their ass to carpeted staircase, holding a fractured, bloody nose.

"Are you okay?" Rajan asks, observing Wolfgang's shrunken pupils and his glare.

Slowly, so slowly, Wolfgang releases the tension in his body, sucking in a deep, heaving breath and nodding.

"Yeah."

Rajan's concern softens visibly, his lips tilting up as Wolfgang smiles back at him, exposing his teeth and leaning towards his boyfriend, opening and brushing his mouth wetly over Rajan's own.

"Yeah… I think so."

He isn't entirely sure what to make of Rajan. _Even now._

The man kisses so breathlessly, tenderly, cradling the sides of Wolfgang's face and sliding his fingertips eagerly over the rasp of golden-brown stubble. Like Rajan wants to put his heart into something so mundane like a brief, spit-sticky kiss. It takes a little while before Wolfgang realizes _nothing_ in their lives can be considered ordinary or simple. Not with each other.

He just knows Rajan accepts this, accepts his wife and Wolfgang's powerful connection.

 _Accepts_ falling in love with a strange German man with a turbulent and nasty past.

Somewhere during the after-party, deeper within the reception hall, Wolfgang ends up with a surprise gift item — a clear champagne glass full of silvery, rainbow-flecked glitter, just like the rest of the attendants.

Kala witnesses Wolfgang's expression brightening, lengthening with a smirk, eyeing the glass and then her.

"Don't you dare—" she warns him, and then yelling high-pitched and indignant as a mischievous Wolfgang chucks some of the glitter in her direction, and upends the rest on the top of Rajan's head. She retaliates, dumping her glitter onto Wolfgang's tuxedo.

That's when everything descends to hell, with the other celebs hollering and giggling, doing the same.

Wolfgang can barely see through the rising, swirling haze of confetti. He shouts, alarmed but entertained, as Rajan tips his own champagne glass onto Wolfgang's mouth and chin, laughing so loudly that Wolfgang can practically feel the reverberations out of Rajan's diaphragm when they embrace, clinging to each other and gazing upwards, feeling Kala press in closer to her boyfriend and her husband.

Later on, Wolfgang strolls outside of the limousine, puffing on a cigarette and watching as Kala and Rajan talk in murmurs, Rajan's hands loosely grasping her hips.

He can see all of the shimmering, vibrant color in Kala's dark roots, and plastered to Rajan's eyelashes — Wolfgang trades places with Kala, groaning a little when Rajan kisses messily against his throat and sighs contently.

Kala watches them instead, crossing her arms thoughtfully and raising her eyebrows when Wolfgang glances over his shoulder, grinning close-mouthed, mocking a shrug when Rajan calls for the driver.

The cigarette wilts between her index and middle finger.

On the way back to the hotel, Wolfgang notices an angel statue in the middle of an enclosed sidewalk, glowing with neon-blue from the outdoor stage lights. All of the trees and their underside of the canopies also densely blue and black. The marble-gray angel statue reminds him of the one resting at the head of his mother's grave, its wings spanned out and its face weeping dismally.

Wolfgang feels himself go steadier, his heart unclenched, as Kala inclines her head onto Wolfgang's right shoulder and laces their fingers, and Rajan's knee pushes gently against his. His dark brown hand flattens against Wolfgang's thigh reassuringly.

He knows neither of them are mind readers, but appreciates the sentiment regardless of picking up on his grief.

 _You will understand what love truly means._

I do, Wolfgang tells himself with unmistakable confidence, shutting his eyes and listening to the hum of the traffic passing them by.

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 _Sense8 isn't mine. EXCITING. TIME FOR MORE POSTING IN DECEMBER. I was assigned to elospock for Yuletide 2018 and I'm more than happy to do more Wolfgang/Kara/Rajan ot3 because I love canon ot3,,, I love poly. Anyway, I hope you guys love this and any thoughts/comments are so so welcome!  
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